


let the bullets fly

by hyungsobbing



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Cameos, M/M, gets better as it goes along, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 21:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyungsobbing/pseuds/hyungsobbing
Summary: With his back faced towards him was another man around his age, with the unmistakeable emblem of the letter L surrounded by a crescent. “Limitless,” He breathes, barely audible, and the man turns around to face him, syringe grasped loosely in one hand and a blade jutting out of his other pocket.There’s a monochrome white phantom mask pulled over the assassin’s face, and Jaehyun knows the exact moment when the man’s eyes land on the tiny insignia of an eye on his collar. “Seventh Sense,” The man responds, voice muffled and distorted by a voice changer.--it’s a tough job, but doyoung loves it anyway.





	let the bullets fly

He stands in a shadowed corner of the room, balancing a tray of teacups on one hand, the other hand tucked into his pocket. The archway light flickers on, but the corner he’s in remains a blind spot. A middle-aged man with grey streaks through his hair walks into the room, his exasperated sigh echoing through the empty room.

“What are you doing here?” The man snaps when he sees the smartly-dressed butler standing in the room. “I didn’t order any tea. Get out.” He goes back to his phone, walking to the centre of the room and sitting on the ornate couch, briefcase next to him.

The butler inclines his head. “Earl Grey tea for you, sir.”

“I said, I didn’t order shit—” The man turns around sharply, but stops abruptly as he finds a bitingly cold sensation at his neck. “Sir?” The butler’s smiles, an eerie one that’s tinged with the slightest hint of menace, and the man takes his first proper glance at the butler. “You don’t work here.”

“Not to worry, sir, there won’t be a ‘here’ anymore.” He flicks his wrist, and the knife sinks in, severing the carotid artery and jugular vein in one slice, crimson blood instantly spurting from the laceration. “Why—” The man gurgles, but he doesn’t relinquish his punishing grip on the knife. He raises his arm in a last feeble attempt to fend off his attacker, but he doesn’t last for more than ten seconds until his eyes roll back into his head.

He grimaces, removing his knife and wiping it gingerly on the back of the sofa. The blood spills onto the sofa and floor as the man slumps forward, but not a single drop lands on the attacker’s suit. He tucks the knife into his suit pocket, turning off the lights as he leaves the room. Just as he closes the door, he hears the thump of the body hitting the floor, and the corner of his mouth turns up.

_Another day, another untraceable hit._

-

“So, let me guess—you couldn’t have poisoned his tea, none of the vials are missing from the shelf. So that means you severed the whatever veins in his neck and left. No dramatics, no big speech, nothing.” Ten says, arms crossed as he sits on Doyoung’s coffee table. Doyoung finishes the dregs of his beer, crumpling the can and tossing it into the bin. “And what about it?” He scoffs.

Ten sighs, shifting from the coffee table onto the couch. “God, Doyoung, you’re so boring it hurts. Where’s your overdramatic villain speech? Don’t you want to hear your victim begging for his life as the light drains out of his eyes? Watch as his associates fake-cry over his dead body?”

“I think you’re enough of a drama queen for the both of us.” He deadpans. “And unlike you, I know the meaning of subtlety. Do you know how long it took to plan that out? To steal a butler’s uniform and pick just the right servant with a criminal history? Hell, I had to get Sicheng to hack into the database to find the servants’ criminal records. And I had to break into the house without leaving traces!”

“Knowing you, probably less than an hour.” Ten sighs. “And you still call me the drama queen here.” Sniffing, Doyoung settles back into the couch, the rusty springs squeaking. He should’ve stolen the previous target’s sofa before the blood got onto it just so he could spend less money on new furniture. “I have to go back to the agency now, but boss wanted me to tell you to go to the agency tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Don’t go there too early, Sicheng’s setting up the new security system in the morning and he’ll kill you himself if you mess it up.” Ten tells him before dropping a thick envelope on the coffee table.

Doyoung hums grumpily in assent, a gush of cold air entering the apartment as the door swings shut behind Ten. The greasy takeout containers sit on his coffee table, and he knows he’ll get a migraine tomorrow from the mess in the living room, but for now, he sighs and pulls the blanket over his head.

-

He stands in the freezing cold outside an overpriced drugstore, tip of his nose red from incessant sniffling. The sign reads CLOSED, but Doyoung continues standing stubbornly on the front step. “Dude, there’s a cheaper store down the road. This one’s owner jacked up the price so high even the prime minister wouldn’t come here.” A passer-by informs him helpfully, and Doyoung pulls up the collar of his jacket as he turns to face the stranger, carefully-prepared bland expression sitting on his face.

“It’s fine, I’m just waiting for someone.” He says, and the passer-by nods understandingly and hurries off. Not many people would want to be out in mid-December, where temperatures can drop to what felt like sub-zero.

(Of course, it wasn’t actually sub-zero. That would make it very hard for Doyoung to dispose of bodies—after all, extreme cold slows down the rate of body decomposition.)

He raps on the door for what seemed like the tenth time in the past minutes, checking his wristwatch impatiently, the old-fashioned model reading a minute past eleven in the morning. The updated security system had better be good enough to warrant keeping Doyoung waiting. Right as he starts to wonder if Sicheng had died inside, his phone vibrates.

_Sicheng [11.01am]_

_Stop knocking, I just unlocked the front door._

_Doyoung [11.01am]_

_Finally._

Huffing, he pushes open the tinted door, scowling when he realises the inside is as cold as the outside. Speed-walking to the back, he swings open the employee door with a bolded DO NOT ENTER sign, bolting it shut behind him. The inside is lit by harsh fluorescent lights, and he squints as his pupils contract, accommodating for the difference in lighting. Where the keypad and sliding door formerly had been, there’s a blank wall, with a single nondescript lens built in. Leaning down, the blue screen of the retina scanner switches on automatically, the machinery whirring. When the screen flashes white, he places his palm on the wall, and there’s a clicking sound and the screen flashes green, the wall rippling to reveal an elevator, which hadn’t been there a second before. Doyoung whistles, impressed. Sicheng had really outdone himself this time.

Walking through the elevator doors, he clicks the only other button, and it’s only a few seconds until the doors open, revealing another plain wall. This time, there’s a grate in the centre, and Doyoung squints at it, unsure of what he’s supposed to do.

_Sicheng [11.04am]_

_Talk into it._

Doyoung clears his throat. “Hello?” Once the words leave his mouth, the grate unfurls outwards, and a keypad slides out.

_Sicheng [11.04am]_

_090416_

He rolls his eyes and inputs the code, and the wall slides open to reveal his familiar workspace, Sicheng sitting at the desk closest to the entrance. “You built the entire place like a security bunker, and for what? The only people who’d want to enter would be our ‘customers’, anyway.” Doyoung says in lieu of a greeting, placing a coffee cup into Sicheng’s waiting hands.

“Boss’s orders. I think he’s paranoid that 7thSense is going to break into our headquarters and steal all the classified information. But like, please. Our computer’s security systems are way better than the government’s, probably.” Sicheng takes a long sip from his cup, sighing contentedly.

The Chinese agent had originally been aloof and closed-off when he’d arrived at Limitless, only speaking when someone addressed him directly, burying himself in his computer monitors and endless data files. But with a lot of coercing and effort, the rest of their co-workers (mainly Ten) had broken through his walls to reveal a snarky and cynical personality, with the occasional, very rare, accidentally-cute moments. Doyoung was nowhere near as good as Ten in talking to people, but he and Sicheng had met at a coffee shop in Daegu, and built up a camaraderie based on perpetual tiredness and their inclination towards neat, non-messy work.

(In Sicheng’s case, neat work meant hacking security system and data without leaving traces. In Doyoung’s case, it meant slipping lethal poisons into his targets’ drinks or a deep laceration across their throats.)

“Ten told me boss wanted to see me?” Doyoung inquires, dumping his bag on his desk and rolling his swivel chair next to Sicheng. “Why do two insist on calling him boss when you know he’s just going to hit you for calling him that?” Sicheng says exasperatedly, setting his coffee cup down on the table and handing him a manila file.

“He’s in the pantry, looking for his kale salad or spinach or something, probably. You got a new case, look through it first.” Doyoung takes the file, rolling back to his desk as he pulls out the stack of paper. The high-resolution picture on the front displays a young man, black hair split evenly over his forehead, smiling charmingly at the camera. _Lee Minho,_ the profile reads, and Doyoung reads on. Son of a filthy rich conglomerate founder, involved in drug trafficking. A rival company had paid a ridiculous sum of money to get rid of him. His eyes scan the page, filled with incriminating evidence about his deeds and very personal information that any person should not be able to get.

He reaches a particular section, and blinks at the words. _Sexuality: Gay._ “Sicheng, why’d you need to include this part?” Doyoung calls out, a feeling of dread building in his stomach. “I’m glad you asked, Doyoung!” His boss walks out from the pantry, a box of vegetables tucked under his arm. “It’s time for you to learn the art of seduction.” Taeyong smiles.

Doyoung groans, slumping back into his chair.

-

“Listen—what I don’t understand, is that why I have to be the one doing it!” Doyoung argues, arms crossed. They’ve been at it for the past half an hour, and no way is he going to back down first. “Ten has done so many of these types of jobs before with no problem whatsoever, why can’t you assign Ten?”

“Firstly, Ten’s already got his own assignment right now. And second—we’ve compiled a list of what Lee Minho deems attractive from his previous flings and brothel visits. Above 1.76 metres tall, long legs—” Taeyong looks just about ready to dive right into it, and Doyoung cuts him off before he gets too absorbed.

“As much as I appreciate you listing my features, I’d just like to point out that I have negative experience in…these kinds of jobs.” Doyoung retorts. “Experience can be gained. Come on, Doyoung, half a billion won for a single hit. I’ll let you have ten percent.”

“Forty.” He haggles.

“Are you mad? Fifteen.”

“Do you want me to do the job or not? Thirty.”

“Twenty percent.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Twenty-five percent of half a billion won. Deal.” Taeyong agrees, and Doyoung sighs. “And how exactly am I going to gain this ‘experience’?”

Just on cue, the wall slides open, and Ten bursts in, smile lighting up his face. “And that’s what I’m here for! Thank me later, because you have a lunch date in approximately two hours and we need to get ready! Lesson one is that first impressions always matter.”

-

One hour and fifty-five minutes later, Doyoung’s wrapped in a purple oversized sweater, the only thing keeping him from freezing to death. The thermal wear under his shirt doesn’t help much as the wind whistles harshly through the trees, messing his hair up.

_“Why can I not wear a proper winter jacket?” Doyoung whines, lying down face-first on his bed as Ten rifles through his closet, throwing out any clothes he deemed ‘presentable’. “So he can give his jacket to you, of course!” Ten says matter-of-factly._

_“Why would he do that?” Doyoung says petulantly._

_“Chivalry isn’t dead yet. Besides, some people love seeing others in their clothes. Looking at the type of person Lee Minho is, he’d probably love seeing you like that.”_

_“But why do I even have to practice?”_

_“Doyoung, I didn’t want to tell you this, but you literally have the experience of a toddler when it comes to flirting and seduction. Don’t worry, Jaehyun is a gentleman. As innocent and sweet as it gets. If he messes up, it’s probably your fault.”_

_“Thanks, Ten.” Doyoung groans as he’s manhandled into the bathroom to dress up._

The needle on his watch strikes one in the afternoon, and Doyoung decides that if this Jaehyun doesn’t show up within a minute, he’s leaving.

Fifty seconds pass, and Doyoung tsks. He turns to leave the street and back into the warmth of the office, when he hears footsteps behind him. He remembers Ten’s instructions to smile and look pretty, so he forces his least unnatural smile on his face, brushes his bangs out of his hair and turns around.

Jung Jaehyun stands there, just a few centimetres taller than Doyoung, wind-swept brown hair mussed perfectly, eyes alight. “Kim Doyoung, am I right? I’m Jaehyun.” He says, and Doyoung’s deep-set instinct kicks in, hand curling around the switchblade in his pocket, before quickly relaxing. _Be cool!_ Ten’s voice reminds him in his head.

“Hey, Jaehyun.” Doyoung forces his smile into something more relaxed, nodding. Jaehyun smiles, dimples popping. “Do you not have a winter jacket? It’s freezing outside.” He says, a concerned glint in his eyes. Doyoung curses Ten in his head.

“I forgot to wear it out.” Doyoung lets the slightest hint of regret slip into his voice, looking up at Jaehyun in the way that his high school crush had described as ‘adorable’. It seems to work, because Jaehyun’s instantly shrugging off his jacket to—reveal another jacket inside? He passes the jacket to Doyoung, going as far as to wrap it around his shoulders as Doyoung doesn’t move, staring sceptically at his second layer of jacket.

“Shall we go?” Jaehyun doesn’t seem to notice Doyoung’s judgmental gaze, offering his arm. Doyoung tears his eyes away from his jacket, smiling up at Jaehyun again and taking his arm. _Be natural!_ His inner Ten voice scolds. “Let’s go.”

-

_Two days ago_

“Jaehyun!” His colleague, Ten, exclaims, appearing from behind their workspace dividers. “Ten,” He greets politely. “How are you?”

“As good as working a nine-to-five desk job can be, I guess.” Jaehyun presses the power switch of his desktop, smiling pleasantly at the shorter man.

“I need to ask you for a small favour.” Ten says apologetically, passing a caramel latte over the divider to Jaehyun, the Styrofoam cup still warm. When Jaehyun hums attentively, Ten continues. “You see, I have this friend, and he’s never dated before. He’s quite lonely, you see, and I was thinking it’d be good for him to go on a few dates, set him up with someone nice.”

Jaehyun wrinkles his nose, the familiar sensation of mild annoyance and displeasure trickling into his brain like toxic sludge. He pushes it back, smoothing his face over and assuming his naïve, innocent façade once again. “And you want me to do it?” He smiles amiably.

Ten’s looking back down at his phone, tapping on the screen for the final time before putting it down on his desk. “Is it too much to ask? I just thought someone as sweet as you would be a good match for my friend. Of course, you can decline. He can be difficult to deal with sometimes.”

His hand, shoved into his pants pocket, curls. He’s spent years building up his sweet, unassuming persona at this workplace. He couldn’t let someone tear it down by spreading rumours of him—Johnny would kill him with his own two hands. If he was fired from another job, he might just be kicked out of his home.

“No problem!” He agrees.

“Thank you so much!” Ten gushes. “Here, I’ll text you his number and once I’ve set up the location, I’ll send you the details! Really, thank you for this.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Jaehyun shakes his head, tucking his phone back into his pocket, tension building up behind his eyes. _God,_ he couldn’t wait for his shift to end.

-

_Present day_

In all honesty, Jaehyun hadn’t been expecting much from Ten’s friend. Never dated seriously before, lonely, even needing a friend to set someone up with him—sounded like the typical guy, too ugly to be able to find random hook-ups, too much of a hermit to be able to get a suitable partner.

So, when he actually saw Doyoung, he was surprised, pleasantly so. Maybe he’d judged too quickly, because there was no way a man this pretty could fail to catch anyone’s eyes. “Kim Doyoung, am I right? I’m Jaehyun.” He says, putting on his most charming smile, the one that makes his dimples pop and middle-aged rich ladies swoon at him.

Even if it was a waste of his daylight and took precious time away from his job, at least, this _Kim Doyoung_ would be interesting enough for him.

-

“How was it! Did you pay, or did he chivalrously offer to settle the bill? Did he take you out for drinks? Did he take you back to his home? When’s the second date?” Ten pounces on him the moment Doyoung puts his shoes by the doorway, hanging his—Jaehyun’s coat on the clothes stand nailed on the wall. He takes his own sweet time answering, going into his room to put down his bag, turning up the heater and refiling the cat food on the doorstep. “Answer me, Kim Doyoung!” Ten whines.

Doyoung rolls his eyes, shaking off Ten’s death grip on his arm. “We split the bill evenly and walked to the nearby park, and talked for a while before he walked me home. No, what makes you think I’ll put out on the first date? He didn’t even try kiss me goodbye.”

Ten sighs. “Ah, I didn’t know he was such a prude. With a face like that, you’d expect that the nightclub was his second home and brings someone back to his house twice every week.”

“I don’t know if you remember, but this is experience for my mission, Ten, which is in a months’ time.” Doyoung points out. Crossing his legs, he remembers the way Jaehyun pulling out his chair for him at the restaurant, Jaehyun’s eyes sparkling as he laughs over the lame joke Doyoung told him, the way Jaehyun had insisted on sending him home, lips pulling down into a worried pout. He doesn’t smile (smiling now would be a weakness that Ten would fixate on and never let go), but some of the tension seeps out of him, and he relaxes into the couch.

“Tell me, Doyoung, what do you do in your free time?” Ten waves his statement away, fixing a mock-stern glare on him.

Doyoung doesn’t even have to think twice before answering. “I’m in the lab.”

“Your _free time_ , Doyoung. You can’t count your work as a hobby.” His best (one of his only) friend says, taking the can of half-finished Pepsi from Doyoung’s hand and taking a long drink from it, but Doyoung’s too tired to protest.

Honestly, he doesn’t know how to answer. Logically, he doesn’t need any other activities distracting him from his job, but Ten and Taeyong are always insisting that he needs a life outside plotting murders.

A long period of silence passes as Doyoung ponders over how to respond without giving Ten the opportunity to laugh at him. “Instead of unnecessarily worrying about me, how about you? Your previous mission can’t have lasted so long. Need my help?” Doyoung’s words may come off as seemingly innocent and helpful to a stranger, but both he and Ten know each other well enough to recognise the mocking undertones.

“Yeah, yeah, I finished that mission just an hour ago. The target was unnecessarily boring, for all the stalking and spying he made me do. Ugly, too.” Ten picks at the fried rice in front of him, staring thoughtfully at a single rice grain. “I think he works under the same boss as your current target. If _you_ need help with your mission, just let me know. I’ll get it done in no time.”

“Don’t start boasting too early. You know what happened in Venice two years ago.”

_“We do not speak of Venice!”_

-

For someone so rich, her home security system was terrible. Jaehyun pushes the slim pick further into the keyhole, hearing the key pins and driver pins click, frowning when he reaches a particularly stubborn pin. _Must be the binding pin,_ he thinks as he exerts slightly more pressure, turning the tension wrench in the hole until he hears an audible click, and the door swings open with a light shove.

Jaehyun steps lightly into the mansion, shoes clicking on the marble tiles. The living room is overly decorated, with a large chandelier he knows is made out of pure gold and there’s platinum necklace encrusted with a D-coloured grade diamond. Quickly, he picks it up and examines it under his phone flashlight. Deeming it authentic, he shoves it into his duffle bag. Anyway, his target wouldn’t be missing a necklace or two; especially not after he was finished with her.

He settles into a chair in her room on the second floor, playing idly with the hem of his gloves. He had an appointment after this, so his target had better not struggle too much—he couldn’t afford to waste time here.

Ten minutes later, he hears the front door open, and a soft surprised gasp. Jaehyun grins. Of course, he could have just locked the door behind him, but a job as an assassin could get very dry, so certain actions were needed in order to spice up the task.

The woman lets out an audible groan, followed by clattering of items against the floor, probably searching for any taken jewellery—the object in question sitting inside his bag at the very moment. The noises stop after a while, and he sees the staircase lights turn on as the woman walks up the stairs, probably frazzled and slightly panicked over the loss of a multi-million item.

He pulls out his exacto knife, twirling it around in his grip as he hears the footfalls grow nearer to him, and the room door thud against the wall, and he waits until she deposits her items on the floor.

Pushing off against the walls, he rolls the swivel chair out of her walk-in closet and into the main part of the room, and delights in the moment where the woman opens her mouth to start screaming.

He knows some of his friends (Yuta) absolutely despises the sound of screaming. Yuta says he hates the way it grates on his ears and if his target screams, their vocals cords don’t last for more than 3 seconds. Jaehyun remembers the way Yuta had said it, with a lurid grin on his face, and patiently waits for the woman to stop tearing up her vocal chords.

When she stops to take a breath, he says, “You know, no one’s going to hear you. Your house is at least a few kilometres away from the next.”

Her eyes widen further in horror. It’s almost comedic, if not for the fact that Jaehyun had moved from his seat on the chair to in front of her in a blink, holding the exacto knife at the back of her neck, looking almost like a macabre parody of a hug.

“Why? Why are you doing this?” She wails, and Jaehyun tsks. If she started screaming now, while Jaehyun was right in front of her, he might accidentally stab her. It wasn’t his intention to dispose of her with what looked like a penknife (it was too small to kill her in one stab, anyway), but he wouldn’t appreciate a ruptured eardrum.

“Don’t take this personally, I don’t have anything against you.” He tells her casually. Unsurprisingly, she starts screaming again, this time shriller. He moves the hand with the exacto knife down, and makes a deep incision from the pulse point at her wrist up to the elbow, and her screaming ends with a choked wail. “If you continue screaming, I’ll lock you inside this room and leave you to bleed out. Death by exsanguination is not a pretty thing.” He says lowly, and he can feel her breaths coming out in ragged, pained gasps.

He tucks the exacto knife into the back pocket of his jeans, and pulls a large syringe out from his pocket. “Don’t scream.” He warns, stepping back, but maintaining an iron grip on her wrist—the one that wasn’t bleeding.

“Wait!” She cries, and Jaehyun decides to humour her last wish. “I can pay you! How much do you want? Five hundred thousand dollars?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, smiling. Rich people and their ridiculous requests.

“A million? Two million?” She panics, and Jaehyun feels her heart rate speed up, and the blood trickling from the cut begins to spurt from the wound in tandem with her pulse rate. If he doesn’t finish her off soon, she’ll enter hypovolemic shock. Not the most terrible way to go, but also not the way he’d intended.

“No amount of money or whatever you offer me will be what I want.” He whispers, meeting the woman’s eyes dead-on. She begins to sob, dry heaving breaths that would be pitiful to anyone who wasn’t a seasoned assassin.

But Jaehyun, in fact, was a seasoned assassin, so he doesn’t budge. Instead, he reaches around the woman’s neck once again, raising the syringe and plunging the needle into her neck. To an untrained eye, the syringe would seem empty, but in reality, it was filled with a hundred and fifty millilitres of air.

Within a second, he’d emptied the gaseous contents of the syringe into her bloodstream. “What did you do to me?” She sobs out.

“Arterial air embolism. The air in your bloodstream causes a cerebral embolism, blocking your blood flow to your brain, causing a stroke. You should die in about the next hour, but varying from person to person, it could be in the next few minutes.” Jaehyun says helpfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll stick around.”

At that moment, his phone rings, and he reaches a gloved hand into his front pocket to check the notification coming in. _5.30PM DOYOUNG,_ it reads, and he curses as he realises he’d almost forgotten about his date. “You might want to hurry up,” He tells the woman.

The woman doesn’t reply. Jaehyun watches as her face slackens and the right side of her body shakes and gives out, and she collapses on the ground, hitting the corner of the table on the way down. Jaehyun winces. “I guess for you, it’ll be a few minutes.” He comments. She convulses for the last time before the twitching stops entirely, eyes glazing over and Jaehyun can’t help but smile.

_Brilliant._ He leaves the house whistling, knife and syringe safely stowed away.

-

Doyoung dumps the unmoving body into the bin full of boiling concentrated sodium hydroxide and water. Careful of the scalding liquid, he seals the bin with an airtight lid. By the time the police found their body, the lye in the mixture would have caused the body to decompose into nothing but brittle bones.

Just then, his burner phone rings. Cautiously, he picks up the call but doesn’t say anything. “Doyoung! Did you forget about your date?” Ten scolds.

“How did you even get this number? It’s a burner phone.” Doyoung hisses. “And what do you want? I’m finishing up a job.” He leaves the bin in the warehouse and walks out, stripping the gloves from his hands.

“Sicheng. And the date with Jaehyun, you idiot! It’s in thirty minutes at Myeongdong station. I hope you brought your civilian clothes.”

“Shit.” He curses and hangs up. Reaching the company car, he tells the driver to go to Myeongdong Station and rummages through his bag, and thankfully finding a change of clothes. “As fast as possible!” He adds, and the driver, Jinhyuk, turns around to give him an annoyed glance. “I’m not your chauffeur.”

“One would say otherwise, considering you’re in the driver seat and you’re driving me around.” Doyoung retorts, but tacks on to the end of his sentence, “Please?”

Huffing, Jinhyuk turns his attention back to the road. “Why are you even going to the station? Your home is in the opposite direction.”

“A date.” He says.

Jinhyuk meets his eyes in the mirror, raising an eyebrow sceptically. “Kim Doyoung? On a date?”

“For a mission.” He adds. Jinhyuk nods in understanding, and presses down on the gas pedal.

-

Jaehyun makes it there on time, throwing his bag onto a bench just outside the stadium and then himself, crossing his legs and pretending like he’d been there for minutes and not seconds before the clock hit five-thirty.

He looks around for Doyoung, and sees him approaching Jaehyun, steps hurried. “Sorry I’m late.” Doyoung says, slightly out of breath.

“You’re hardly late, Doyoung, it’s exactly five-thirty on the dot.” Jaehyun stands up. “Shall we go?” He notices Doyoung’s wearing a winter coat this time. “Good that you’re wearing a coat, but I’m kind of disappointed I won’t get to see you in my clothes again.”

It’s worth it, to see the red flush spread across Doyoung’s cheeks, and he laughs, pushing the beanie down on his hair. “The reservation is at six. Let’s go?”

Doyoung nods, the blush fading from his cheeks as they set off from the station.

-

“It’s finally the day that you’ve been waiting for! Are you ready?” Taeyong declares, straightening the collar of Doyoung’s dress shirt as if he’s going out on an actual date. Doyoung tells him as much, and Taeyong laughs, kind and serene. Too kind for someone who bosses around people to kill other people on a daily basis.

“Try to be dramatic and cool for _once_ in your lifetime!” Ten shouts across the office. Doyoung rolls his eyes. “I am! Look.” He raises a vial of one of his poisons, smiling proudly. “What’s that?” Donghyuck, their newest addition to the agency, asks curiously.

“Now you’ve done it. He’s going to talk on and on and never going to actually finish the mission.” Ten grumbles, and Donghyuck’s eyebrows raise.

“This is Botulinum. It’s a neurotoxic protein produced by a bacteria species, which I won’t say because no one’s going to understand it. It prevents neurotransmitters from functioning properly, inhibiting motor control, and the target’s body parts undergo paralysis from top to bottom.” He pauses to take a breath and sees Ten opening his mouth, and continues quickly before anyone can stop him. “Usually, once the lungs are affected, they experience breathing difficulties, and they die. And it’s relatively easy to make in the lab, so it’s perfect.”

He tucks the vial back into his jeans pocket, and Taeyong sighs. “I don’t think this is what Ten meant by cool, but it sounds good! Stay safe.” He pats Doyoung’s collar down for the last time. “Don’t feel bad about it, because Lee Minho is a dirtbag.”

Doyoung shudders, remembering Minho’s sleazy grins and wandering hands. “I won’t.” He reassures them, and picks up his bag, walking out from the office’s hidden backdoor.

-

He pushes the needle into Minho’s neck, sighing tiredly as the man struggles in Doyoung’s grip. “How could you do this?” Minho gasps out, eyes wild. “We had something between us!”

“Yeah, if something was my disgust towards you.” Doyoung says, bored.

Minho starts wailing again, and Doyoung leans away, repulsed. “My lawyers will get you for this!”

Doyoung doesn’t normally make an effort to explain his chosen murder methods to his target out of pity, but he would make an exception just for Minho. “You know, Botulinum can actually be found in cans of improperly processed food, so they’ll probably pass your death of as food poisoning. It takes about twelve hours for poisoning to set in when ingested, but since it was injected directly into your bloodstream, my guess is that you’ll start experiencing symptoms soon and die in about an hour.”

Fear passes over Minho’s face, and he starts shaking, from the fright or from the poison, Doyoung isn’t sure. “Yeah, but I have things to do so I can’t stay. Don’t try to escape because there are undercover guards outside—anyway, the paralysis should be setting in soon so I don’t think you’ll be able to.”

Minho tries to speak, but the symptoms seem to be developing, because only a dry wheeze comes out.

Turning around, Doyoung walks to the exit of Minho’s house, closing the door and deadbolting it from the outside. He nods at the two guards standing outside, and Yukhei smiles back cheerfully, as if he wasn’t guarding a house to make sure a dying man wouldn’t escape and as if Doyoung hadn’t just poisoned a man.

-

_Doyoung [2.46pm]_

_I’m breaking up with Jaehyun today._

_Ten [2.47pm]_

_WHAT????_

_Doyoung [2.50pm]_

_I’ve already finished the mission I don’t need any more experience?_

_Ten [2.50pm]_

_YOU IDIOT_

_Ten [2.51pm]_

_Youre going to be so sad_

_Ten [2.51pm]_

_And lonely_

_Ten [2.52pm]_

_Dont break up with him_

_Ten [2.52pm]_

_Do you hear me_

_Ten [2.55pm]_

_KIM DOYOUNG_

_Ten [2.59pm]_

_If anything happens ill just say I told you so_

Doyoung locks his phone, looking around. Jaehyun was supposed to arrive at three, and then he could immediately tell him that he was too busy for a relationship right now. Easy and mess-free.

“Doyoung!” Jaehyun calls, brisk-walking towards him. They’re at a park relatively near Doyoung’s place, and he twists his fingers, unexpectedly nervous.

“Jaehyun.” He greets, a hint of a smile on his lips. Jaehyun beams, hair mussed up by the winter wind and cheeks red from the cold. _Maybe this isn’t the right timing to break up,_ Doyoung thinks, _I’ll let him talk for a bit and then break up._

“How are you?” He asks, seemingly never failing to ask that one question every time they met. It’s endearing, in an odd way. “Good, you?”

“I’m fine! Did you see the news the other night? That conglomerate’s son Lee Minho supposedly died from Botulinum poisoning from his food.” Jaehyun starts, and Doyoung is endlessly grateful to Jaehyun for not making their dates awkward.

“Supposedly?” Doyoung says curiously. Had he not covered up his tracks well enough?

“Well,” Jaehyun hedges, a little unsure, “Isn’t it a little suspicious that the son of a widely-hated CEO conveniently died from food poisoning? A little too coincidental.”

Doyoung hums, interested. Not many people nowadays would read too much into an official police statement. “Not coincidental? Plenty of people get food poisoning each day.”

“Yeah, but Botulinum? Victims usually die twelve to thirty-six hours after poisoning, and experience symptoms way before the timing of death, so that he died without any reports of feeling unwell is rather strange.” Jaehyun points out, and Doyoung has to admit he’s impressed. He hadn’t even thought about that.

“I see where you’re coming from, but have you considered that he did experience symptoms such as nausea and went to a doctor about it, but the symptoms could have been considered as a general flu and didn’t raise any alarms, therefore wasn’t reported?” Doyoung counters, eyes shining with genuine excitement as he listens to Jaehyun rebutt his argument.

He doesn’t think about them breaking up for the rest of the day.

-

Ten slams his hands down on the table, and it’s only due to his experience that Doyoung doesn’t jump. “So, Kim Doyoung! How are you feeling now that you’ve broken up with Jaehyun!” Ten says, passive-aggressive tone blatantly obvious.

“I didn’t.”

“You must be feeling very regretful and—what?” Ten cuts himself off, confused.

“I didn’t break up with Jaehyun.” Doyoung says, nodding at Donghyuck as the younger agent sits at his table across Doyoung, listening to their conversation.

“But you said you would!”

“Well, I didn’t. He caught my attention again by talking about my most recent mission, and brought up a possible setback I hadn’t seen in my choice of murder.” Doyoung should be feeling upset over the fact that some else—in fact, a civilian! —had one-upped him by pointing out the flaws in his murder, but he can’t bring himself to feel anything but genuine delight.

Taeyong whistles, having eavesdropped. “A civilian, correcting Doyoung? He must really be something.”

“He isn’t as airheaded as I thought him to be, then.” Ten nods approvingly. Even Sicheng pipes up, “He graduated from Yonsei University. Why is he even working at a nine to five desk job, then?”

“Oh, so he’s overqualified for the job, then. That’s weird, but it’s Jaehyun, so.” Ten trails off. “But I’m happy for you!”

Doyoung holds a hand up. “Why are all acting like Jaehyun and I getting married?”

Donghyuck snickers. “Maybe because the way you talk about him is like both of you got recently engaged.”

He glowers at the junior agent. “I preferred it when you were too intimidated to even talk.”

“I preferred it Taeyong forced you to be nice to me when I first came here.” Donghyuck retorts.

“I—”

“Okay, break it up! There’s a reason why I called all of you here in the morning.” Taeyong claps, effectively shutting the both of them up. “We’ve received a new mission! Kang Seojun wants us to kill Min Yeonhee, and he’s paying us eighty million won for it.”

“Kang Seojun, like the idol? And Min Yeonhee, his girlfriend?” Donghyuck gasps.

“Damn, Seojun is cute. Can I take this mission, Taeyong?” Ten asks, and Sicheng rolls his eyes.

“But Seojun put in a request for us for the kill to be fuss-free and attract as little media attention as possible, so—Doyoung, this one’s on you.” Taeyong finishes, and Doyoung shoots Ten a smug grin.

“Sure. By when?”

“By the end of this week, please. Get it done soon.” Taeyong affirms, and Doyoung shoots him a thumbs-up.

-

Min Yeonhee’s house is a nice one, a two-storey semi-detached house in the centre of a relatively rich estate. Jaehyun almost feels bad for taking it away from her, but as he always says—it’s nothing personal.

The impressive-looking padlock on the wrought-iron gate is laughable, too. If he wanted, he could just take a hammer and smash it apart, but since he’s supposed to be as covert as possible for this mission, he goes by the traditional lock-picking method, feeling around the rusty springs until he hits the right one and the lock clicks open.

It’s kind of weird, because the door’s already slightly ajar, and he steps cautiously into the house, footsteps light and leaving no visible tracks on the floor. Min Yeonhee isn’t supposed to be back for another hour, which was why Jaehyun had come early just so he could pick off a few expensive items for some extra salary; and also, to set up the murder.

Pulling the dual-toned domino mask more securely over his eyes and cheekbones, he treads further into the house. It’s where things start becoming stranger, because there’s an empty glass vial left on the dining table top. He’s pretty sure Minhee hadn’t been a substance user.

Holding his breath, he steps into the kitchen—and freezes in his tracks, a terrible feeling of silent horror washing over him.

With his back faced towards him was another man around his age, with the unmistakeable emblem of the letter L surrounded by a crescent. “Limitless,” He breathes, barely audible, and the man turns around to face him.

There’s a monochrome white phantom mask pulled over the assassin’s face, and Jaehyun knows the exact moment when the man’s eyes land on the tiny insignia of an eye on his collar. “Seventh Sense,” The man responds, voice muffled and distorted by a voice changer.

Jaehyun and the man stare at each other for an impossibly tense second, and Jaehyun feels the existential dread growing in the pit of his stomach. He isn’t sure who breaks eye contact first, but Jaehyun backs out of the kitchen, gaze going from the syringe filled with clear liquid in the man’s tight grip and his white phantom mask. He nods abruptly and just short of runs to the front door, opening and closing it behind him shakily.

He leaves the exact way he comes in, and drives off in the company-provided car, hands still shivering as he clutches the steering wheel. _God,_ he’s such a coward. One look at the enemy organisation and he’s hightailing it out of there as if he hadn’t been trained from the age of five to be a cold-blooded killer, as if he didn’t have one of the highest death counts in the country.

Jaehyun was many things. He was annoying and slightly obnoxious to his friends, sadistic towards his targets, apathetic towards the news of a new murder victim. But he also was realistic, and knew when to back down from a fight he definitely could not win. This would be a clear-cut defeat for him.

From the unassuming empty glass vial on the table to the syringe filled with clear liquid, the pristine medical gloves and the sharpened knife jutting out of the man’s pocket, he knew his single pistol couldn’t hold a candle to all that equipment.

Yuta was going to kill him for this.

-

Doyoung watches warily as the man with the domino mask backs out of the kitchen, hands raised in the universal sign of surrender. He keeps an eye on the door and the back door in case the Seventh Sense assassin decided to come back and steal his kill, but there’s not a single footfall or breath in the house the moment the front door swings shut.

Sighing heavily with relief, he raises the syringe up to the light and taps it a few times, checking for any impurities. Upon finding none, he uncaps the lid of the syringe and expels the liquid into an unassuming bottle of water, tossing the syringe back into his bag, picking up the empty vial on the tabletop and leaving the house through the back gate.

_This one’s for you, Taeyong_. He thinks. A fuss-free murder.

-

** BREAKING NEWS ** **: IDOL KANG SEOJUN’S GIRLFRIEND MIN YEONHEE FOUND DEAD IN OWN HOME**

Min Yeonhee’s body was found in her own home less than a day ago, reported by the neighbours. Police did not find any evidence of physical assault, but autopsy results show traces of thallium sulfate, a slow-acting poison. Accidental ingestion, or purposeful hate crime?

_Continued on Page 6._

_By Kim Jungwoo, 28 thDecember 2019_

“You say you saw Limitless agent at Min Yeonhee’s house?” Taeil confirms.

“And yet you didn’t kill him?” Yuta complains, glaring at Jaehyun. “You got the opportunity to take out one of their agents but you just ran away?”

“You want me to die?” Jaehyun shoots back, feeling a migraine building up from the annoyance from his day job, his failure at the job, and Yuta’s annoying nasally voice.

“He’s right, Yuta,” Taeil interjects. “There’s no feasible way that Jaehyun could’ve overcome Limitless with such an unexpected situation. Plus, the drawbacks of killing a field agent is too risky.”

Yuta settles back into his chair, scowling childishly, but doesn’t argue any further.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter all that much. Kang Seojun gave us the payment upfront, and as long as the job is done, no matter who did it, he can’t retract his payment. Besides, I have a new mission for the two of you.” Taeil says, effectively directing the subject of the conversation away. Yuta, like the child he is, forgets all about their previous argument and perks up, focusing on Taeil.

Jaehyun lets out a subdued sigh of relief, turning his attention back to Taeil.

-

Their in-ear comms crackle to life in the absolute silence, and Doyoung winces a little. “Corridor to your right has three guards, the one on your left is empty.” Sicheng’s quiet voice says, and Doyoung gives Ten the go-ahead.

Ten moves silently, slinking around the edge, and Doyoung follows behind him. True enough, the corridor is empty and Doyoung nods up at the security camera on the ceiling and Sicheng huffs amusedly in his earpiece. “Take two lefts and one right, and you should reach a door. The pin number is 240816.”

It takes about five minutes for them to get to the said door, slipping past two guards arguing heatedly in the third passageway. Ten inputs in the pin into the keypad, and the door slides open with a hissing noise.

The last hallway is dimly lit, and Doyoung has to feel along the metal walls with gloved fingertips just to find his way to the hidden alcove. He presses the tiny tiles in the alcove in a ‘Z’ formation and the metal wall rotates open, and they duck in just as the hidden door closes again.

Their new location is pitch-black. “Lights?” Doyoung asks, and Sicheng hums distractedly before the lights turn on one by one. The room is small for such a large, sprawling government facility, just about the size of an average apartment’s living room. It’s empty apart from a single computer, the monitor blank.

Hesitantly, Doyoung powers on the computer, typing in the password Sicheng sends him. (He has no idea what exactly Sicheng does to get all these passwords and information, but he’s better off not knowing.)

With Sicheng’s guidance, Doyoung and Ten click through mountains of archived documents and files upon files of data, until finding the desired document, transferring it into the hard drive they have. “Good, now go before they discover the file’s been copied.” The lights turn off, and they exit the room the exact same way they’d came in by.

Doyoung holds a hand to stop Ten before peering around the corner where the two guards had been before. He scans the corridor, but where the guards had formerly been standing, there was just a growing puddle of blood and the guards’ bodies lying on the floor.

“Shit!” Sicheng swears, and then proceeds to curse in frantic Chinese. “Doyoung, back up now!”

Alarmed, he does so. And just in time, as a bullet flies past him, barely missing his face. “What the hell?” Ten hisses. Both of them automatically pull out their guns, clicking off the safety and aiming it forward. Doyoung aims his gun around the bend, and without looking around, he pulls the trigger.

There’s a muffles gasp of pain, and Doyoung deems it distraction enough to peer around the corner. There’s two men, dressed in all-black outfits, and he almost passes them off as security guards until his gaze zeroes into the familiar eye insignia on their sleeves. He sees the familiar domino mask, and he’s clutching onto his left arm, crimson blood turning his black shirt even darker. His partner, with a plain surgical mask concealing his face, has his other arm hooked around his shoulder, pulling him up.

Another gunshot rings out from behind him, and Ten shoots the guy in the domino mask in his left shoulder. “Fuck!” He cries out, and Doyoung quickly commits the voice to memory. If he could just get more information on him—his name, his address, he knew Limitless would be able to eliminate Seventh Sense entirely. It’s way too risky to attempt both of their murders right now.

Just as he’s about to aim another shot at the man with the surgical mask, Sicheng speaks into his ear again, voice slurred from his haste to get the words out. “Doyoung, Ten, there’s no time to eliminate the both of them now. A large group of guards are heading towards you, the alarm was triggered. Turn the other way and run, I’ll open a gate for you!”

Doyoung and Ten break into a dead sprint to their left, bullets whizzing past them and ricocheting off the walls as the guards chase after them, skidding to a stop as a hidden gate to their right opens, and the duck through the already closing gate.

-

Jaehyun walks into the office with a scowl on his face, the pain radiating from his left side messing up all coherent thought. “Oh, Jaehyun, what happened to you?” One of his co-workers, Guanheng asks concernedly. Looking up, he forces a smile onto his face, erasing the tension from his forehead.

“This? I tripped down the stairs and one of my porcelain flowerpots shattered on me.” Jaehyun comes up with a lie on the spot, smiling abashedly. “Ah, so clumsy! Be more careful next time.” Another co-worker says, patting his uninjured shoulder.

“Tripped down the stairs, huh?” Ten laughs, staring at his bandaged left arm and shoulder. “What a silly mistake.” Jaehyun sighs dramatically, setting down his briefcase.

_The only mistake I made was not getting rid of those Limitless agents on the spot,_ Jaehyun thinks furiously, hot anger bubbling up in chest. _The next time I see any of them, I’ll kill them on the spot, I swear._

-

“Jaehyun is the Seventh Sense agent.” Is the first thing Ten says upon entering the office. Four pairs of bewildered eyes turn to look at him, and Taeyong laughs. “It’s not April Fool’s yet, Ten.”

“I’m serious. Yesterday, he got shot twice in the left arm and shoulder, and today Jaehyun came in with a bandaged left arm and shoulder. He didn’t even have a believable excuse for it.” Ten says, and it’s his unusually serious tone that spurs Sicheng into action, the Chinese agent turning to his multiple computer monitors, beginning to try to dig up more information on Jaehyun.

Doyoung scoffs disbelievingly. “You expect me to believe that the human personification of a golden retriever is an assassin?”

“Listen, I didn’t believe it at first either, but the coincidences are adding up! That date after you met that Seventh Sense agent at Min Yeonhee’s house, the one where Jaehyun bailed because he said he was sick—that was probably him reporting back to Seventh Sense about a Limitless agent after the same target!” Ten gets increasingly worked up with each word, gesturing wildly with his arms. “Look, I’m not saying we have to track him down and deal with him now, but watch your back. Distance yourself from him without making it obvious.”

“Why? He’s not even an agent, Ten, I think you’re just being overly paranoid.” Doyoung dismisses his concerns, turning back to his piles of paperwork on the desk.

-

“Jaehyun, take a look at this,” Yuta proclaims, tossing something at him. Jaehyun catches it with one hand, turning the burner phone over. “What about it?”

“It’s Ten’s.”

“Ten, like my co-worker at my day job? What about him?”

“He’s not what he claims to be.”

Jaehyun pauses, and laughs uneasily. “What?”

“I saw him throw this phone away in a dustbin on my way to your company, and I found it really weird. Why would a civilian have a burner phone? So, I picked it up and got Johnny to track where the calls from the phone had been made from, and turns out this burner phone has been inside the Limitless agency and has made calls to people who are now dead.” Yuta takes the phone back from Jaehyun, throwing it on his own desk.

“Oh, Ten being an agent? I knew that already.”

Taeil turns around from his computer, staring at Jaehyun incredulously. “You knew?”

“I thought all of you already knew.” Jaehyun says, wincing when Yuta glares at him. “I guess not…? I saw him walk into this really shady back alley after work, and I followed him. Apparently, there’s a pathway in the sewer behind the company that leads directly to the Limitless agency, but I wasn’t sure if it really was the agency or not. So, I got his address from Johnny and broke into his house, and found a remarkably impressive stash of weapons and his field costumes.”

Taeil and Yuta turn in sync to glower at Johnny, and the intelligence agent raises both hands. “Hey, don’t look at me! I’m just the tech guy, I don’t need to know what all of you get up to in your free time. For all I know, Jaehyun was going to that guy’s house to make out with him.”

“I’m already dating someone, Johnny, you know this. He—” Jaehyun stops, as he comes to an abrupt realisation. “Does Doyoung know about Ten being in Limitless?”

“Does Ten want something from Doyoung? Jaehyun, Doyoung could be in danger.” Taeil says worriedly. Yuta opens his mouth, probably ready to say something stupid, before Taeil shoots him a quelling glare.

“It’s possible that Doyoung knows about Ten’s involvement with Limitless, but then why hasn’t he said something or complained to the police?” Yuta says instead. “What if Doyoung himself is an agent?”

From his cubicle at the far end of the room, hidden behind his computer monitors, Johnny snorts, sounding as disbelieving as Jaehyun feels. “Doyoung? Yuta, have you met that guy? He blushes every time Jaehyun so much as opens his mouth to say something mildly flirtatious—and Jaehyun sucks at flirting.”

“Anyway, dumbass, Doyoung has a proper job. He works at Chain Laboratories, you know, that really prestigious research lab?” Jaehyun announces, feeling absurdly proud. “He doesn’t have time for all this assassin bullshit.”

Yuta whistles, mocking grin firmly on place on his face. “You managed to snag a smart one, huh? That’s good, he’ll make up for your stupidity.”

-

_Ten [7.04pm]_

_pick you up at 8.30?_

_Ten [7.30pm]_

_doyoung?_

_Ten [7.45pm]_

_doyoungggggggg_

_Ten [7.50pm]_

_stop working and pay attention to me :(_

_Ten [7.56pm]_

_hey!!!!!!_

_Doyoung [8.02pm]_

_Ok see you 8.30pm outside the lab stop texting me_

Sighing, Doyoung frowns at the mess in front of him. He’d brought along Donghyuck to expose him to the behind workings of the agency, and hopefully teach him a thing or two, but he’d quickly realised that the younger was more likely to knock over all his chemicals and cause an explosion than actually get things done.

He’d quickly assigned Donghyuck to clean-up, but on the way to get the cleaning cart, Donghyuck knocks over a centrifuge, and Doyoung sees his life flash before his eyes as he leaps across half the room’s width to catch the centrifuge in his hands, closing the lid tightly before placing it back on the shelf, breathing deeply.

“Sorry?” Donghyuck says almost meekly, eyes wide and placating. Doyoung forces another deep exhale out, calming himself down. “Just—just stand there. At the corner. Ten’s coming soon, so you can leave when he arrives.”

Donghyuck nods, slight fear reflected on his face, retreating to the chair in the corner of the room.

Soon enough, Ten arrives, but not without another unnecessary remark. “I don’t know why Taeyong bothers to continue funding your lab—it’s just a one-man show at this point, because the rest of the employees were too scared of you and quit.”

“Because they couldn’t keep up! I can do even better without their useless inputs. And, Ten, this lab is so profitable, it earns more money than you do in a year—and it’s not even one of Limitless’s main businesses.” Doyoung places the last test-tube rack into the incubator, picking up his bag on the way out and turning off all the lights. “Donghyuck, you can go now. Don’t oversleep tomorrow or you’ll have to answer to Taeyong himself.” Donghyuck nods.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch that eye roll, Lee Donghyuck!” Doyoung calls after the younger as him and Ten set off.

“So, what’s up tonight?” Doyoung asks curiously.

Ten shrugs. “I don’t know, Taeyong told me to pick you and go to headquarters.” Doyoung whistles, eyes widening. “Headquarters? Do you think someone from our agency got into trouble? A group mission?”

“We’ll see, I guess.”

-

Doyoung sighs exasperatedly as he watches Ten’s gaze follows Leeteuk, the ‘big boss’ of Limitless. “My aspiration is to still be as hot as him even when I age and get wrinkles.” Ten says.

“That’s gross, Ten, Leeteuk’s ancient.” Doyoung mumbles, and Taeyong shoots both of them a silencing glare.

Leeteuk clears his throat, and the fifty-something people in the room instantly quiet down, turning around to stare attentively at him. “Thank you all for being prompt. I’ve called the main agents from each of our branches here,” He pauses and nods at the people around the room, and Doyoung notes that he sees the China representative, Kun, as well as the Canada representative, Mark, sitting in the room, and a creeping sense of dread begins to grow. If headquarters had called people even from other countries for this meeting, it had to be something way bigger than he’d expected.

“Because our secrecy has been compromised.” A quiet gasp ripples through the room, and Leeteuk nods grimly. “One of our contacts from the District 9 agency who has a job undercover in the government, has notified us that there’s been an anonymous informant who called in to tell him about the existence of Limitless, and with adequate evidence too.”

The visualizer screen turns on with a press of the remote, and a video feed from a security camera is pulled up. “Dong Sicheng from the Seoul branch has already tracked down the IP address of the call, and it’s from an internet café’s hotline. He managed to access the café’s security camera feed at that exact date and time, and here’s our informant.” Right on cue, a person, dressed inconspicuously in black and white, walks in, and asks to borrow the café’s landline. “Is that…?” Taeyong speaks up, eyes fixed on the person.

“Yes. That’s the Seventh Sense insignia on his sleeve.” Leeteuk says gravely, and the room falls silent.

“Is this a declaration of war?” Mark asks, and Doyoung snorts. Sounds like something Ten would say.

“Yes, I would suppose so.” Leeteuk says, and Doyoung frowns. Surely it couldn’t be that serious?

“We have reason to think that him purposefully wearing the Seventh Sense logo on his sleeve in front of what he would know is a security camera is an open provocation towards us.” Leeteuk sighs. “We’ll have no choice but to retaliate as our entire agency is at risk of being exposed, and this would cause our branches in other countries to weaken as well. Fortunately, it was our contact that was informed, and not anyone else, and the agent came directly to tell us.”

“What do you suggest we do now?” Kun speaks up. “Lay low. Don’t accept any jobs unless you’ve already worked with the party before, to ensure that they do not leak. Don’t accept any government-related jobs, because there’s a risk that they may be government spies trying to root out our agency.” Leeteuk looks around at everyone in the room, face grim. “Limitless has lasted for the past half a century and we won’t be going down any time soon, so let’s all do our best.”

The agents nod in assent, and begin to file out. Ten looks from Doyoung to Taeyong, gaze flickering nervously, opening his mouth. Doyoung shakes his head at Ten, and he falls quiet.

They wait until they reach back to their office and Taeyong goes back into the office, before Ten turns to Doyoung. “The ‘Jaehyun is a Seventh Sense agent’ theory becoming more plausible for you?” Ten murmurs. “Of what we could see of the person in the video feed’s face and hair, and adding on to the fact that Jaehyun had direct contact with us in the previous mission, it makes sense that they would want to get rid of Limitless.”

Doyoung chews on his bottom lip nervously. He doesn’t want to believe that—he can’t accept that. The image of Jaehyun’s affectionate gaze on him and the murderous aura radiating from the Seventh Sense agent just didn’t match up. “I’ll see,” Doyoung mutters, eyebrows knitted.

-

“We’ve found the anonymous informant, and Leeteuk gave us the go-ahead to eliminate him.” Taeyong says almost too cheerfully when Doyoung steps into the office the next day. “Who?”

“Jung Yoonoh, he lives in the Chungmuro district. You and Ten will go there next week Monday, so there’s plenty of time to prepare, and go in civilian clothes so the apartment guards don’t suspect you. Clear?”

“Yes, boss!” Ten says, and Doyoung nods, already starting to plan possible murder methods, wondering if Ten would complain if he suggests cyanide poisoning.

-

Jaehyun laughs and pulls Doyoung’s beanie down over his ears, earning a whine out of Doyoung. “Stop! You’re making me look ugly.” Doyoung pouts.

“You can never look ugly, Doie.” Jaehyun smiles. Doyoung flushes, and surely this man couldn’t be the same malicious agent he’d met the other day, right?

“…Doyoung?” Jaehyun calls, and he feels warm fingers lace through his own, and Jaehyun bumps Doyoung’s shoulder gently. “You with me?”

“Sorry, I have a lot on my mind right now.” Doyoung grimaces apologetically, and Jaehyun presses his lips softly to Doyoung’s cheeks. “It’s fine. Do you want to talk about it? Is it work-related problems?”

The image of Lee Minho lying on the floor, eyes empty, comes to the front of his mind. “You could say that.” Doyoung says. “It’s just stressful right now.”

Jaehyun lets go of Doyoung’s hand, but he barely has time to worry before Jaehyun steps in front of him, pulling him gently by his shoulders. “Then we’ll just have so much fun together today that you’ll be less stressed!” He cheers, dimples on full display. “You don’t have to worry about anything when you’re with me, I’ll protect you!”

Doyoung breaks into a genuine smile, heart pounding. “Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“It’s no problem.” Jaehyun grabs and intertwines their hands again, and they set off, hands swinging between them.

-

“You ready?” Ten whispers as they walk up the apartment block’s stairs, a gun hidden at Ten’s waist and another strapped to his thigh. Doyoung has two daggers in his pocket, another tucked in his sleeve and a final one under the sole of his shoe if nothing else works out. He has a vial of cyanide poison attached to a needle—just in case, he says, when Ten looks at him, annoyed.

“Yeah.” Doyoung mouths, pushing open the stairway door. Unit number #09-15 is to their left, so Doyoung ducks down beside potted plant the wide leaves obscuring any passer-by’s view of him—so long as they don’t look too closely. Opposite him, Ten squats behind a marble statue, his lithe stature allowing him to hide in a cramped space.

The elevator dings, and Doyoung’s pulse speeds up, like the way it always does before a hit.

The target walks out of the lift, coming into his field of vision, and the moment Doyoung sees him, a strangled noise escapes him, and his grip on the knife in his pocket weakens. He sees _Jaehyun_ look around for the source of the noise, and he feels his heart stop when their eyes meet.

“Doyoung, baby? What are you doing here?” Jaehyun says confusedly, reaching down to pull Doyoung out from his perch behind the potted plant. “Jaehyun, which is your apartment?” Doyoung asks, sounding way calmer than he feels.

He avoids Ten’s eyes, heart thundering. “Why?” Jaehyun scratches his head, turning to walk down the corridor.

“Which one, Jaehyun?” Doyoung insists. “This one. #09-15. Do you want to come in?” Jaehyun slips off his shoes at the door and turns the key in the lock. “Just a moment.” Doyoung says, watching dazedly as the Seventh Sense agent enters the apartment, leaving the door open and smiling fondly at Doyoung.

“Ten.” He murmurs, leaning against the wall. “Ten, what do we do?” He croaks, shaking. He has less than three minutes until Jaehyun starts wondering where he’d gone.

Ten shakes himself out of his stupor, coming out of his hiding spot to stand face-to-face with Doyoung. “I want to say I told you so, but—”

“Ten, please.” Doyoung pleads, eyes wild.

“I’ll leave you to finish this.” Is all Ten says before he turns on Doyoung to leave.

“Wait!” Doyoung cries out, snagging Ten’s sleeve. “Ten, I don’t know about this.” He confesses, feeling his cold, aloof assassin persona slip away at the thought of watching the life go out of Jaehyun’s eyes, the body turning cold on his apartment floor.

Ten sighs, raking a hand through his hair, looking equally at loss. “Doyoung, listen. Your mission is to eliminate Jaehyun, but—but if he somehow escapes, I’ll tell Taeyong you tried to kill him but he managed to survive the hit.”

Doyoung’s eyes go wide, fumbling for the right words to say. “Doyoung?” Jaehyun pokes his head out from the doorway. Panicking, Doyoung moves to block Ten from his vision, but Jaehyun doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss; he turns his head slightly and realises Ten is gone.

“Are you coming in?” He prompts gently, and Doyoung hurries to take off his shoes, entering the house and closing the door tightly behind him.

Inside the apartment, Jaehyun has changed to a plain t-shirt and shorts, and Doyoung can’t spot any hint of a concealed weapon on him. _Do it quickly,_ he thinks, frazzled.

“You okay, Doie? You’re kind of pale.” Jaehyun walks closer, hand outstretched. Just as he’s about to place the back of his hand on Doyoung’s forehead to check his temperature, Doyoung holds out a hand, stopping Jaehyun from coming any closer.

He takes a deep breath, possibilities running through his mind. “I’m fine, Yoonoh.” Doyoung says after a considerably long pause, and he sees the exact moment when Jaehyun realises what’s going on, and his eyes shutter, his face smoothing over, any traces of the previous concern replaced by cold determination. Doyoung feels his heart shatter a little as Jaehyun backs away from him, pulling out a pistol from under his couch cushion without taking his eyes off Doyoung.

“So, Yuta was right about you, Limitless agent Kim Dongyoung.” Jaehyun says, drawing the pistol up and pointing it right at Doyoung.

“Jung Yoonoh.” Doyoung inclines his head, knives in both hands.

“I’m not really sorry, but I’ll have to end this as soon as possible.” Jaehyun pulls the trigger before Doyoung’s brain can catch up with him, but his instincts have him leaping out of the way of the bullet, which grazes his right arm, ripping off a chunk of his shirt and along with it, his skin. Pain shoots up his arm, but Doyoung grits his teeth and slides forward, knives pointed at Jaehyun.

If he were any less observant, and if he hadn’t spent so much time with Jaehyun in the past months, he would’ve missed the flash of regret and worry in Jaehyun’s eyes. As it is, that’s the only thing that causes him to hesitate in his advance forward, giving Jaehyun time to aim another bullet at him, but this one misses entirely, veering off course and burying itself into the wall.

He takes a running step forward, and notices the minute tremor in Jaehyun’s hand as he pulls the trigger for the third time, as he ducks out of the way and tackles Jaehyun to the floor, knocking his gun out of his hand with the butt of the dagger, drawing a deep laceration down his arm.

Agonising pain explodes from his shoulder, and Doyoung cries out in pain as his shoulder collides with Jaehyun’s, and with it comes the realisation that Jaehyun had landed a bullet in his right shoulder. “Fuck.” He spits out, raising the blade to Jaehyun’s throat.

He feels a cold, biting sensation press against him, and he sees Jaehyun with a gun cocked into his chest, and Doyoung’s hand trembles, drawing a thin line of blood at his throat.

“Doyoung.”

“Jaehyun.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung.” Jaehyun says, and he pulls the trigger at the same time as Doyoung slashes the blade downwards.

“I’m sorry too, Jaehyun.”

**Author's Note:**

> ok anw i love kim sihoon my #onepick yeah this fic was born out of my undying love for dojae and staying up a week before my exams to finish this yes!!!!!! again, not edited at all, so please please do point out any mistakes! thank u for making it all the way down here :~)


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